One Last Time
by eotopia
Summary: He looks worn, unshaven, bulkier than she remembers and when he draws closer his lips lift into a familiar smile that reaches his eyes. He's looking at her as if they had only spent the Christmas break apart. Not 7 years. Set: Season 19. COMPLETE.
1. Chapter 1

She'd thought about this moment more times than her consciousness should have allowed. But she never thought she would be here. In a bar. _Their_ bar. _7 years later._ Tucked into the crevice of a booth, palming her glass of bourbon, her fingertips trailing across liquid frost, her chest panging with uncertainty, nerves, apprehension as to whether she should have even responded, let alone come.

It had been a text message from him with one simple sentence.

 _"Can we meet?"_

Her phone had lit up beside her beside two nights prior at 1:24am, Noah was asleep in the next room as she sat up, clasping the device in her hand, her foggy eyes scanning the request – the question, the suggestion, her mind confused as she reached for her glasses, no part of her able reconcile the name that hovered above.

 _Elliot Stabler._

It was as if all the air had expelled from her body.

She hadn't deleted his number.

After all these years it was still housed between departed colleagues and romantic disappointments. Ed, Elliot, Ellis.. She had nearly hit his name by accident when scrolling through her phone in a rush once. And she had thought about it one night – deleting it entirely. It wasn't long after Lewis that her shaking hand hovered above the red button, long-term, irreversible relief right there at her fingertips. Her watery eyes desperate for finality, for closure because if he didn't come for her then, he never would.

But she didn't, she left him there.

Like a past life memory, preserving his eerie presence like a tattered, faded scrapbook page collecting dust in her mothers attic. She knew there would be repercussions for holding onto him like this and it seemed now was one of them.

She had clicked out of the message screen, dismissing his ill-placed request, tossing the phone back on her bedside table and closing her tired eyes. Maybe if slept through the night she could wake up and it would be a new dawn, a new day.

The next morning around the 4pm mark he'd sent another.

 _"Please Liv.. it's important."_

Her eyes had narrowed in on that one, her fingers curling over her device as Rollins hovered at her office door. The tone of his message, a familiar ache in her throat, one she had thought she had long since extinguished, one that bared no place in her life anymore.

"So we letting him go?" Rollin's questioned, her silence referring the perp they had in interrogation, having not enough to withhold him.

Olivia looked up from her phone, placing it softly on the desk before she cleared her throat.

"Yeah Rollins.. we're letting him go," she whispered through a tired breath.

Rollin's lingered momentarily, aware something was off but knowing better than to ask. The parallels of her statement had not escaped Olivia. She knew it, like a sign from the heavens that this would be the catalyst to her removing him completely. That final nail in the coffin of their past, to close a chapter she should have long shelved years ago.

But when she got home that night after a long day, Noah sleeping soundly, her eyes traced the remnants of bourbon coated ice while her fingers teased the home button of the phone.

No matter how hard she tried she couldn't deny that part of her - _of them_ , that chord that never truly severed even though she had thought it had. Nostalgia, curiosity and an unrelenting dormant ache was the tipping point. Every fiber of her being screaming at her not to do it as she opened up his message and sent her reply.

 _Where?_

 **TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Thank you for your words._

 _*Potenitally triggering themes.*_

* * *

The glass hovers just below Olivia's mouth when she sees him enter.

She knew no amount of mental preparation was going to help her in this moment.

She expected her chest to pound, for her fingers to clam up, for her throat to tense and her body doesn't disappoint.

Elliot's eyes lift to hers from across the room and the contact burns like a shot.

She waits for a plethora of memories to slam into her in that one definitive moment but her chest hangs there in limbo, her eyes tracing each step in contemplative observation as he threads his way through close-packed tables and empty booths.

He looks worn, unshaven, bulkier than she remembers and as he makes his way over to her she's thankful for the time to take him from a distance. When he draws closer his lips lift into a familiar smile that reaches his eyes.

He is looking at her as if they had only spent the Christmas break apart.

 _Not 7 years._

Her fingers interweave protectively around her glass and he stops just shy of the seat opposite hers, hovering momentarily as if debating whether or not to greet her physically. Her eyes lower to her drink in response and he takes the hint, moving to the seat opposite her, faux leather crunching beneath his weight as he tugs off his coat and scarf.

His eyes subtly take her in – noting the changes, the similarities, the way she must feel familiar yet different, just like he does for her. They explore each other silently before he lifts up a finger, motioning to the waitress by the bar. It's too early in the afternoon for the dinner rush, too late for lunch so the waitress responds promptly.

Olivia studies his mouth while he orders Brooklyn Larger, his voice sounding raspier, lower than she remembers - like he's recovering from a cold. He motions to her half full drink, a silent question of another but her mind is still focused on his physical presence opposite her, struggling to reconcile how a person so ingrained in her history could have vanished so completely.

 _7 years._

She dismisses his offer and he sits back scratching his jaw underneath her gaze, a gesture so familiar it makes her throat ache.

"You look," she begins once the waitress is out of earshot and she doesn't need to finish the sentence for him to know it's not particularly complimentary. His edges are rough, his eyes are tired and he looks as if he hasn't slept in days.

"I know," he whispers in a breath. "It hasn't been a good week." He reveals, his fingers tapping awkwardly on chipped laminate. "Or year."

He is barely meeting her gaze but there's something about his honesty that causes a small bout of sympathy to rise in her chest. She wonders how long he waited before he finally messaged her. How many times he _didn't_ reach out, how many times his hands hovered above _her_ name.

How many times he played the same game she did.

"I'm sorry to hear that," she says fingering her bourbon, because something is required even if it's not particularly heartfelt.

"You on the other hand look.. well rested," he smiles in kind, this time his eyes really hold hers and the compliment hits her sideways. _Well rested_ , as if he is implying his absence has helped in some way, like their 7 year hiatus was a vacation for her and not the most harrowing years of her life. Or maybe she's just reaching, looking for any possible way to keep her anger for him stronger than her love.

"What do you want Elliot?" Her voice comes out desert dry because it's going to take more than a flash of his smile to erase all the ways in which he hurt her.

She must have sounded angrier than she felt because he sits back, pressing him self against the booth back as if she'd just physically winded him. Elliot scrubs his face with one hand, stubble rasping against his palm. His mouth parts, as if the rehearsed speech in his mind had been shattered due to her blindingly blunt comment.

He stares at her intently, he isn't sure what to do with her now and she feels it, muscle memory kicking in, her stomach bracing for a fight because sometimes that's the only way she can bear to remember them.

"I know," he whispers and she realizes quickly he isn't going to go there. He doesn't have the strength for a fight anymore and she wonders how long ago it left him.

"I know you don't owe me anything Liv." He looks beat down, warn out, eyes blood shot and his skin pasty. "The fact that you're even here…" he shakes his head almost in disbelief. His words trail off, his voice a lot softer this time, perhaps his version of an apology. "That you're sitting across from me right now.."

They stare at each other then and the years fall away. He could be a desk across from her, shuffling papers, giving her a weary smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes. Her heart trips against her rib cage but her gaze remains steady, neutral. One thing she promised herself was that she wouldn't offer him anything more than what she was willing to give.

"Look," she begins and it takes work to keep her face impassive, her tone neutral.

"I don't have a lot of time here Elliot." But her breathing hitches because she nearly called him El out of habit and a rush of breath leaves her body. Her fingertips still against condensation, suddenly unable to trust her voice so she ops to stay silent.

He is staring at her oddly, but she doesn't falter, only a slim waver in her façade. She wonders if he's catching it, like the tiniest crack in a smooth a pane of glass, seemingly unseen but when put under pressure could shatter into pieces.

There was a long drawn out pause, so long she wasn't sure he'd speak at all.

"I need your help Liv," he whispers finally, sadness chasing it's way across his face, never quite settling on a single spot.

His hands move up and down his thighs as if he is trying to dry his palms before he is leaning forward once more, his fingers clasping together almost prayer like. A feeling of alarm overcomes her then, as if she can see the pieces unfolding beneath her before he does.

"It's one of the kids.." she whispers slowly, but she already knows, he wouldn't be here if it wasn't. His kids were the one thing he could never walk away from, the one thing he knew she couldn't either.

"It's Kathleen," he tells her, a noticeable waver in his voice as his eyes drop away from hers.

And it's something about his tone, the way he isn't meeting her eyes that makes her feel it in the pit of her stomach. It's a physical response, almost nausea inducing. She can feel bile permeating in the depth of her gut as she breathes out a heavy weighted breath. She says his name, but her voice sounds like it's coming from somewhere outside of her body because she already knows.

She doesn't need him to tell her.

"She was raped."

 **TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: I've found it hard to share this story but t_ _hank you for making it easy and thank you for the words._

* * *

The words puncture through her chest.

She's visibly shaken by his statement, her fingers still against glass, her throat feels like it's closing up and she can't even formulate a response let alone fathom expressing it.

He's still not looking at her, that vacant look in his eyes matching the one she's seen in the mirror countless times and it hits her full force how far trauma can extend, how many lives can be tilted irreversibly off their axis.

The air pulses around them, her chest pounding with the need to fill the space between them with solace but her eyes simply prick with tears.

She blinks once, twice.

"When?" Olivia's voice is raw when she asks it. She doesn't know why it's the first question or if it really matters.

Elliot moves the beer bottle between his hands before he slowly lifts it up to his lips. He takes a long draw as if it had the power to erase the date from existence.

"June 9th," he whispers slowly. "Of this year."

Olivia's mind ticks backward.

 _6 months ago._

She thinks about that phone call he would have received that night. The one from the hospital. From Kathleen. From the detectives.

Or maybe he heard about it in the aftermath. Maybe she never reported it. Maybe she'd kept it from everyone for days, weeks, months, never going to the police or the hospital, never getting a formal rape kit.

Maybe she knew it would shatter her father's heart into a billion pieces knowing that after all the caution he used to drum into his daughters, he still couldn't save her from that harrowing fate.

Maybe it was Kathleen who wanted to save him.

 _June 9th._

The date pounds through Olivia's chest as she remembers her own.

 _May 20th._

"Therapy hasn't worked.." Elliot's voice drags like it's burning. "And now they've just upped her meds. More anti depressants.. she didn't need this Liv. God knows this was the last thing she needed." He scrubs a hand down his face until he is resting his eyes in the heels of his palms.

Olivia swallows, her hands desperate to reach out to console him but she remains stationary.

"Where?" She whispers, her voice cracking but she immediately regrets it because she doesn't want that imagery in her head, let alone forcing Elliot to dredge it up.

"Her apartment," Elliot whispers and it's too late, visuals are already plaguing Olivia.

 _Welcome home Detective Benson._

She closes her eyes.

"She'd only moved in at the end of last year, she had said it was her dream to live alone.. now it's anything but."

Olivia opens her eyes and captures his bowed head and she starts to shake her head.

"A random attack?" Olivia's voice shifts, flitting uneasily between detective and victim mode, trying to remain objective, stable, calm while a plethora of flashes of Lewis' face, voice, hands, eyes are pulverizing through her chest.

 _Not Kathleen._

"No.. it was a guy from her work," Elliot responds and that's when he slowly lifts his head to catch her eyes. "Apparently he'd be pursing her for months. One night he followed her home.. wouldn't take no for an answer." He shakes his head.

She gnaws on her lower lip, her fingers absently tracing the watermark beneath her glass. It all falls into place now why he called her, he was done trying to fight his daughters demons on his own, lord knows he needed a lifeline, someone who got it and Kathy could only ever understand to a point.

Olivia was his last resort.

"And Kathy?" Olivia questions now that she's at the forefront, concerned as to how a mother could possibly be taking the news. "How is she.. coping?" Another misplaced question she thinks, she should be asking about Kathleen but truth be told she already knows.

"I don't know," Elliot scratches his stubble before lifting his finger to the waitress behind them and Olivia's eyes slip down to his empty bottle, not realizing how fast he had drained it. "Not well I imagine," he whispers.

Her eyebrows furrow and she waits impatiently to get his eye contact back but he refuses to look at her.

"You imagine?" Olivia repeats, a question in her voice.

"We don't talk.. a lot," Elliot's eyes lift momentarily to catch her confused expression. "These days." That's when her eyes fall to his left hand, the one that no longer houses his gold wedding band and Olivia's fingers tap lightly against glass.

A bout of sadness breaks within her then, he'd left the job to save his marriage - his family, and by the looks of things he has barely been able to save himself.

"Two years," he answers her unspoken question as his fingers flex beneath her gaze.

She nods in response, still stuck on how much of a waste this all seems now.

"Up until Kathleen's attack, the only thing we really spoke about was Eli," he explains.

The waitress returns at that point, scooping up Elliot's empty beer bottle and replacing it with a fresh one and Elliot wastes no time before he is bringing the bottle up to his lips.

Her eyes fall down to his hands then, remnants of purple bruises lining his knuckles and she flashes back to their former years. An innate tugging within telling her not to get involved this time, not to get dragged back into the Elliot anger fuelled shit-show she bared witness to for 12 years.

She sits back in her seat, faux leather crunching beneath her weight as her mind reels in debate as to how far to take this.

"Elliot," she says it slowly doing her best to keep emotion out of her words, trying to figure out just how she's going to make space in her life for this when she has Noah and the stressful demands of her job. "What do you need from me?" This happened 6 months ago after all and he's only contacting her now.

"Is this about the trial?" she assumes. "Do you need help with the case?"

She watches as fresh wave of sadness ripple across his features and she can see tiny pinpricks of tears tugging at the corners of his blood shot eyes.

He shakes his head his, bottom lip starting to quiver. "No Liv," his voice wavers, his shaky fingers interlocking as he picks absently at the corners of his nails.

Her stomach braces then, because she can feel the next tidal wave of a bombshell rising and she isn't quite sure she's ready to watch her former partner crumble beneath her eyes.

"Three nights ago," he breathes out slowly before his watery eyes lift up to hers. "She tried to take her own life."

 **TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: As always it's been way too long, and this is way too short. But alas, here it is._

* * *

They had been stationary in his car for over 15 minutes without the engine going and she was starting to see her breath cloud in front of her. The night air had a chill to it that was already permeating through her jacket.

It had been 24 hours since she had been sitting across from him at a bar. Twenty four hours since he'd told her his daughter had tried to take her own life and now here they were parked outside their family home, Kathleen a resident within the walls once more.

"Thank you for doing this," Elliot whispers quietly, the sound getting trapped in the confines of the sedan as a roll of nausea passes through her stomach. She wasn't ready for this, she was barely ready to dredge up her own demons let alone guide Elliot's daughter through her own.

"I can't tell you how much this means," Elliot says, hurt threading through his voice but all it does is cause a surge of guilt to pulsate through her chest.

Olivia wades through the silence, she's still stuck on something that has been plaguing her the moment he had asked for her help. Her chest pounds at the concept of bringing it up, but she has to know before she enters that house.

"Elliot," she begins, her chest thudding with apprehension as she slowly turns to face him. "Are you asking me to speak to Kathleen as a detective.." she begins. "Or a.."

But she can't say it. _Damn it_. She's said the word countless times through the course of her healing and yet here in front of him she has no way of finishing her sentence without her throat closing up.

 _Victim._

She feels her eyes start to prick with tears.

"Or a what?" He watches her carefully, his face is deadpan, but she knows - there is no possible way that he didn't read it in the papers or hear it through the preverbal grapevine.

 _Welcome home Detective Benson._

"Or a lieutenant?" He questions deliberately, his face remaining steady and she wonders how he can do that. How he can sit there and spout a line of bullshit right to her face. If the news of her promotion travelled to his ears, then clearly so did her attack. She breathes through her nose, trying to figure out if she should push it or if she should just let it go.

But then it comes - ten fold - and it hits her like a wave.

"Or a mother?" he whispers quietly, his voice small.

Her mouth opens to respond but it closes just as quickly. He is staring at her intently, waiting for a response but she can't look at him anymore.

She moves her gaze straight ahead. Up until that point she had assumed he had no idea _._ And if he had dug that deep into her personal life, Lewis wouldn't have been hard to find.

"Liv," he whispers. "Or a what?" he repeats to her profile.

She wonders if the lie burns on his tongue but it doesn't make her angry. She never let him in when they were partners so why should she start now. She knows he wants her to say it, that _word_ – and maybe if it were years ago and they still bared the connection they once had she might have succumbed.

But not here.

 _Not tonight._

"Just tell me what you want me to say Elliot," she sounds tired, worn out, weak.

He feels her shift immediately and allows her space to wade through the silence.

"Tell her it's going to be okay." His eyes moves off he profile and down the darkened street ahead of them. "That things will get better... that it just takes time." A wave of silence passes through them and she feels like he's reading a script, one that she's learnt first hand isn't so easy.

"All the things you've said to countless victims over the years," he reminds her.

 _To yourself._

She lets out the breath she is holding, her fingers tapping softly on the door handle before she's shaking her head with sadness because she knows no matter how many times she has said those words to herself, to the victims, she's still not entirely sure they are true.

She feels the weight of his stare, the desperation in his silence and the undeniable pull towards a connection they once had.

Her eyes prick with more tears, because she had pictured this - wondered countless times what it would be like to see him. How it would feel to hear his voice, to look into his eyes, to smell his scent - to just sit in the same space with him and _be_. But it feels different to how she expected, their edges seem jagged now, parts of a puzzle that no longer fit.

A pang of hurt passes through her at that point because despite the ghost of their history that currently surrounds them, she knows this can only ever be temporary. And that once she is done here, she will have no reason to stay.

 **TBC**


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: I didn't plan on updating this tonight. But then here this is._

* * *

Olivia knocked lightly on Kathleen's bedroom door.

A wave of silence passing through her as her eyes traced the stylized 'K' on the door.

She held her breath as she waited for a response.

Kathy had greeted Olivia downstairs, her tired puffy eyes emanating gratitude at her presence. The hug she had given Olivia holding a silent plea within them, and it was in that moment that she wondered if it had been Kathy's idea all along. She had let Kathy cling onto her for a few seconds longer than she'd expected, an awareness crossing over her that all these years between them and Kathy was holding her like no time had passed.

Elliot hadn't even touched her.

Olivia knocked again, this time announcing her presence.

"Kathleen?" Her voice cracked with an edge of nervous emotion as she waited a little longer, not sure she had it within her to do this. "It's Olivia."

"It's open." She hears a small voice in response and she twists the knob.

She spots Kathleen in bed, a laptop on her legs, ear buds in her ears and a stack of plates and empty tea mugs piled on her bedside table.

All indications that she hasn't left her room in a while.

"Hey sweetie," she says with a small smile as she closes the door behind her and it's autopilot, she was so used to calling her that when she was a kid and it comes out no different.

Kathleen takes an ear bud out one by one, slowly watching as her presence registers on her face as if she's not quite sure she can believe Olivia is standing there, just as much as Olivia can't.

"Mom mentioned you'd be coming over," she says with the absence of a physical smile but Olivia had caught it in her words.

Olivia moves further into the room, motioning to the end of her bed, a silent question as to whether she can sit. Kathleen nods and Olivia shifts a stray hoodie to the side and sits down. Up until that point Olivia wasn't sure what reception she'd receive from Kathleen but so far so good.

Olivia gives her a small smile and an unspoken moment passes between them.

"Long time no see." Her hand rests on top of her foot, giving it a light squeeze. "Your hair's longer," Olivia notes, trying to keep it light.

"So's yours," Kathleen says with a slight head tilt, a few beats passing between them before she says it. "I ah.. I actually wasn't sure I'd ever see you again." Kathleen looks at her as if she's a code she's trying to crack.

"Yeah," Olivia begins. "You know if I had it any other way-"

"I know," Kathleen sighs, moving a pillow behind her back to prop herself up. "It wasn't you. It was Dad right?"

Olivia feels the sting of reality hit, remembering just how blunt and open Kathleen had always been and that tonight would be no exception. Olivia watches Kathleen's eyes fall back to the laptop and the room stills, the realisation setting in at how open the discussion must have been to cut Olivia out of all of their lives.

Olivia takes a moment to gather herself.

"He told me things have been.." Olivia's words trail off suddenly, not sure exactly how to articulate it. She was no stranger to speaking to victims but there was something about the responsibility of talking to a Stabler that was causing her to trip over her words.

"Must be weird talking to me right?" Kathleen's eyes move up to hers. "About _this_."

Olivia takes in her expression before she lets out a breath.

"I bet you never thought you'd have to," Kathleen's words trail off. "With one of us."

"Believe me, I wish I wasn't," she whispers, sadness overcoming her features in that moment. "I wish the circumstances were very different."

She hadn't meant anything beyond that sentiment but she sees it register in Kathleen's eyes.

"Are you angry at him?"

A pang of surprise hits at the question and Olivia watches Kathleen move the laptop off her lap, as if the conversation were now worthy of her full attention.

"Because you should be." Kathleen whispers.

Olivia opens her mouth before closing it once more.

"I think your Dad's really worried about you," she whispers, trying to ignore the direction Kathleen had intended to take it. "I think he'd do anything to know you're okay… even _this_."

"Right," Kathleen whispers. "But are you angry at him?"

Olivia knows what she's doing. She's trying to deflect and it's victim protocol 101, she had played this part many times herself. It was a way of taking the focus off her and gaining control of the conversation so she didn't have to deal with her own emotional state.

For the moment, Olivia lets her.

"Your Dad did what he felt was right, for everyone concerned.." She answers honestly. "You can't fault him for that."

Kathleen lets out a scoff.

"Yes I can. Just look at him, do you think any part of his decision has done him any good? He's been a wreck since he left his job. Mom and Dad aren't even together anymore, did he tell you that? He's been living in some cesspool of an apartment in the city for nearly a year now - just drinking himself into oblivion. I'm not entirely sure how that beats being employed."

The new information hits Olivia's sideways and she sees it register on Kathleen's face.

Her eyes furrow in surprise. "He didn't tell you…" Kathleen shakes her head. "Such bullshit."

"Honey," Olivia tries to regain the reigns of the conversation. "I'm here to talk about _you_."

" _I'm_ fine," she presses. "It's Dad you should be worried about."

"Sweetie you ended up in hospital… they say you tried… that you tried to take your own ..life."

That stills Kathleen in place and they lock eyes, the elephant in the room is officially out and there's no going back. A wave of tension flows between them.

She had tried to be as gentle as possible with her wording but by the look on Kathleen's face she wasn't taking it well.

"Did you?" She bites back, almost in defense.

Olivia stills.

"Did I what?" She whispers.

"Try to take yours?" Kathleen holds her stare as Olivia's heart pounds with trepidation.

It hits - the realisation that Kathleen and the Stabler's officially know about her attack.

That Elliot had known the whole time in the car.

 _A what Liv?_

Kathleen looks away, realising she's potentially overstepped the mark and Olivia closes her eyes when she finally says it.

"No sweetie."

"But you thought about it." Kathleen doesn't miss a beat, picking at her cuticals before she looks up again. "Right?"

Olivia's eyes search hers before she tilts her head.

"I had too much to live for," she whispers. "And if I had.. I would have missed out on so much."

She thinks about Noah in that moment, the concept of missing out on a life with him is almost too much to bear.

"You didn't answer the question Olivia." Kathleen whispers, narrowing her eyes and it's the same antagonising tone Dickie once used with her in an interrogation room when he felt just as cornered.

 _'Ever sleep with your partner detective?'_

Olivia sucks in a breath. "Briefly," Olivia whispers, knowing Kathleen is speaking only out of hurt and was desperate to find some sort of solace and understanding. "But there's a difference between thinking.. and acting."

Kathleen looks downward for a moment and the separation between them feels evident.

"I guess that's the difference between us."

A few beats pass between them as Olivia squeezes her foot once more.

"Kathleen, you're much stronger than you think," she whispers. "You have your whole life ahead of you. You'd be leaving too much behind, starting with two parents who love you to absolute pieces."

Kathleen looks up then, a wealth of annoyance in her eyes.

"No they don't."

"Kathleen-" Olivia begins but it seems she isn't backing down.

"I don't fit Olivia.. I don't fit the mould. I'm not built for this family. I never was. And I don't think Dad is either."

Olivia waits a beat, her eyes furrowing in response, waiting for her to continue.

"He was never meant to be a family man," Kathleen's eyes raise to hers. "That much is obvious." A few beats pass between them as Olivia tries to decipher what she means. "I think Mom fell pregnant with Maureen and he did the right thing.. he stuck around, he made it work." Kathleen pauses, a wealth of sadness passing through her eyes. "But given a choice, I don't think we would have been his first."

"Kathleen," Olivia whispers, moving forward, desperate to erase that thought from her mind. "Take it from me, I spent over a decade with your father, he loves his kids more than _anything_ in this world, I watched that play out over and over again and I know this for a fact. He wouldn't trade you for the world."

The room stills as Kathleen slowly looks up at her.

"But he did in the end," she whispers, a darkness imbedded deep within her irises. "You can see it in his eyes. He's checked out." She pauses, before she looks down at her hands once more. "Just like me."

Olivia tilts her head down towards Kathleen, sadness and confusion all intermingling in her chest as her mouth parts to respond.

"He's a lion in a cage Olivia..." Kathleen tells her through a weighted, shaky breath before her steely eyes look up once more. "And the thing about lions in cages.. they either break free or they rot. Dad and I are just trying to break free."

 **TBC**

* * *

 _AN: Full disclosure: I may have stolen that lion line from a book. But boy does it fit._


	6. Chapter 6

_AN:_ _Thank you for waiting 84 years for this._ _It seems I have overwhelmed myself with all these fics and I'm not sure what to focus on next so if_ _you're hanging for a certain one in particular please let me know and I'll try to prioritise. :)_ _Also for those who asked which book the lion line was from it's 'The Roanoke Girls'._

 _Thanks for reading!_

* * *

 **Two Nights Later**

Olivia sits in her car, stationed in one of the darkened side streets behind his apartment.

The engine had been off for a good 10 minutes but she still hadn't found the strength to move.

She cannot believe she is here… now.. after all these years.

She still thinks about that day she had hunched over in the interrogation room, violent tears spilling down her cheeks as she doubled over at the news of his retirement. She hadn't lost it like that in years, in fact she never had - not even after her mother's death or the awareness of her father's actions.

She'd done her best since then to erase the remnants of Elliot Stabler from her life to the point where he no longer felt good to think about. Safety, protection, union, strength were no longer adjectives she'd use to describe him and in the absence of those traits she hadn't gone as far to replace them with hardened ones. That's how she knew she had been coming out the other end of this, his name no longer dredged up feelings of anger, confusion, hurt or sadness. He was just a memory to her now, one that had left her life quietly which in hindsight was the perfect compliment to the tapestry of her childhood conditioning, an emotionally crippled mother and a violent, absent father, a dynamic that provided the ideal foundation for her revolving door of failed relationships.

But she always thought Elliot would be different.

Her partner.

Her friend.

Her confidante.

She had never crossed that line with him romantically and yet in the end, even her friendship had managed to drive him away.

But she wasn't blind to the facts, she had always known they would ultimately drift apart, they'd retire, their dynamic would shift and that was okay. He'd still be in her life but from a distance, which was safe, familiar, comfortable – her version of love. She had collected just enough crippled fragments of relationships throughout the years to breathe enough life into her to function but what she didn't know or expect was that their 12 year partnership would evaporate so suddenly like that. She hadn't been ready or prepared - they still had a long shelf life, she had envisioned them at Cragen's retirement, Maureen's Wedding, she had even gone as far as to picture them celebrating their 20th anniversary as partners.

But on the flip side if he had stayed, where would that leave her now?

No Noah.

No promotion.

No Lewis..

A visible shiver wracks through her spine at the trauma that she could have potentially avoided. She wonders what her path would have looked like had he stayed. Would it have worked in their favour or would their emotional reliance be the bullet that would rupture through one of their chests on duty? And if it were him, she wouldn't just double over in that interrogation room, she never would have gotten up. His death would be the death of her, she'd have no capacity for a child after that, a relationship, a promotion, a future. She would have emotionally ruptured and that was the only silver lining she could find in this whole mess.

Elliot Stabler was alive and it was through his breath that somehow she could still find hers.

She looks down at the message on her phone.

 **Kathleen Stabler**

 _I'm really worried about Dad._

 _Can you please check on him?_

Below that was his new address.

Olivia had only committed to one conversation with Kathleen but it was the days that followed that she realised her duties appeared far from over. She knows she shouldn't be stationed outside his house but despite the fact that her partner was no longer her responsibility, it would seem his daughter's fragile state had become hers.

* * *

She knocks on his door once.

Twice.

And it's on the third knock that it opens beneath her fist.

She takes him in, a damp trail of liquid streaks his grey t-shirt that's either beer or sweat and when her eyes move back up to his she tries to keep the judgement out of her stare.

"Kathleen called," she explains, trying to account for her presence, not sure why she agreed to the plea in his daughters voice when she asked her to check on her father tonight.

Elliot clears his throat looking away from her and in the process she catches the sight of the coffee table behind him littered with half a dozen empty beer bottles.

"She shouldn't have done that." His voice comes out groggy with a little slur.

Olivia presses her lips together, resisting the urge to comment on his current state.

"Well she's worried."

He turns his face then and she sees it, a fresh line of blood dripping down the side of his scalp.

She steps forward, moving her hand up to try and gauge the depth of it.

"Looks like she had good reason to be."

"It's nothing." He brushes her hand away, moving the wound out of her eye line.

It's the first time he has touched her.

She waits until their eyes connect before she responds.

"Look, I know this is hard for you.. believe me I do.." She sets her jaw in place, not sure how much patience she has for this conversation tonight. "But you're not helping anyone with this, least of all Kathleen."

She knows the old Elliot would have fired back with an angry line of defence but she can see there is little energy in his tank now.

A few beats pass before he says it.

"I'm sorry you came all this way," he responds. "But as you can see I'm fine."

"You're not.." She doesn't miss a beat. "..fine."

His eyes land on her like a heavy weight. "I hit the corner of a cupboard Olivia, I'll live."

"Jesus Christ." She presses her eyes closed. "At least try to be creative with your lies Elliot. Nineteen years on the job, you don't think I can spot a bar fight when I see one."

He doesn't respond, in fact it doesn't even look like he's heard her, but his indifference only spurs her on.

"If you continue to wear your anger like this, you're going to get yourself arrested… or worse. Do you really think that's going to help your daughter?"

She doesn't know where the sudden anger has arisen from, maybe it's her concern for Kathleen, or the parallels she is feeling with her mother or the whirlwind of memories she had just dredged up in the car.

She lets out an uneven breath and just as she's about to reign in her anger she sees something flicker in his eyes as he rises to her level.

"Aren't you sick of it Olivia?"

She blinks back at his question, not so sure she wants to hear what he has to say.

"Sick of what?" She rasps, her chest rising and falling in preparation.

"Picking up people's pieces when you should be picking up your own."

The air stills between them.

There are no barriers now, he's just stripped them entirely away. He wants to hurt her, that much is clear, in that one comment he's just rendered her speechless.

 _Lewis._

He's talking about Lewis.

She tries not to react. She tries not to assume that's what he is implying. She tries to empathise, to understand the place of hurt he is coming from and the alcohol he has consumed tonight. He is doing his best to push her away and it's working, but the spark he had just lit with that comment is at risk of engulfing into a full blaze.

"You asked me to talk to your daughter Elliot." She says through gritted teeth. " _You_..called _me_."

"I did," he agreed. "And you spoke to her and I'm thankful. Your job is done now."

Her eyes widen in disbelief.

She had always wondered if there had been strong words exchanged between them when he left, a screaming match of sorts if that would have been enough to release this anger inside her once and for all. And if he had just given her one single, tangible reason for ghosting her maybe she'd have the closure she now so desperately sought.

But he didn't, instead he left her to wade through a grey, murky, stagnant pool of 'whys' and 'what ifs' where the only answers she could find were those she found within. She had been his emotional sidepiece for 12 years, never quite realising where she stood with him until suddenly they stood no more.

And that is the truth that's hitting her so hard right now.

She wasn't enough for him.

And she never would be.

"Screw you." She whispers finally, the hurt from their past and the way he had left things driving so violently through her chest in that very moment.

She starts to walk away from him then but he stops her with his words.

"I know you've got more to say to me Olivia… so have at it."

A fire churns through her chest at that invitation.

He is provoking her.

She considers all the ammunition she could unleash on him in that very moment but realizes the battle is no longer worth it.

"That's where you're wrong Elliot," she whispers sternly. "I've got nothing left to say to you."

 **TBC**


	7. Chapter 7

_AN:_ _Thanks so much for all your kind words and for following this story, this is the final chapter._ _The two songs I listened to when I wrote this was 'Way down we go' by Kaleo and 'Skin' by Rag and Bone Man. I use the lyrics from Skin in this chapter so all credit goes to the songwriter there. I would say enjoy, but I don't think you will._

* * *

 _'Only when it's over,_

 _The silence hits so hard.'_

 _-Rag and Bone Man_

* * *

 **SIX MONTHS LATER**

* * *

The function room was full of bustling colleagues, industry folk, varied acquaintances and esteemed ass kissers. Olivia had only come out obligation and as she stands there nursing her second champagne she glances down at her wristwatch, wondering if one hour and 53 minutes was an appropriate amount of time to show face.

She decides in that moment that it is, placing her barely touched glass down with a light clink and moving through the crowds of people hoping to God she isn't stopped on her way out. She nods back at the familiar faces who are acknowledging her with a glass raise, careful not to knock into anyone's drink in the process.

She makes it through the gala foyer successfully, distant sounds of industry cattle dissipating with each light clink of her high heels. Her eyes lift up towards the beaconing exit sign that marks her imminent freedom when she hears it.

"Liv."

She stops dead in her tracks, a wave of disbelief rising in her chest, her heart pounding feverishly in response to that voice, to that tone, to that timbre.

It's not him _._

Not here.

 _It can't be._

She turns around to see a clean-shaven Elliot Stabler sporting a freshly tailored suit. A few beats pass before he walks up to her, a strange sense of relief filling his eyes as if he'd been looking for her all night and wasn't sure he'd find her.

Her eyes dart anxiously away as he nears, looking for a lifeline to save her in that moment only she has come to realise they're entirely alone. He is a few inches away from her now, no barriers just his foreign blue eyes searching hers intently.

"Fin mentioned you'd be here." He accounts for his presence.

"Right.." She stares at him like she's seen a ghost, her words tapering off, still unable to believe he is standing in front of her right now. She takes note to kick Fin's ass for not giving her the heads up.

"I didn't have your new address." He explains, a wave of unease moving through his features before he looks away. "And I didn't think you'd take my calls.. so I thought this would be easier."

She presses her eyes closed, afraid to ask.

"What would be easier?" She says almost says it through gritted teeth.

If this is about his daughter or his wife of any member of his godforsaken family she was going to walk - now.

"To talk." He says carefully, his eyes holding hers. "To apologise.. "

She tries to gather the strength to fight this because a clean suit and a well overdue apology isn't going to erase 20 years of disappointment.

She bites down on her lower lip before releasing it, trying to remind herself that her last encounter with him had been beer-soaked cruelness.

"Elliot, I was just leaving."

"I'll drive you home."

"No thanks." She doesn't miss a beat.

"Liv.." He tries.

"Look." A sudden surge of defence takes over in that moment. "I thought I made it clear the last time we spoke."

 _I have nothing left to say to you._

"Right." His eyes flit to a spot behind her head before they return to hers. "But if you could just hear me out."

She watches something flicker in his eyes then; sadness, shame, guilt.

"Please." he whispers.

She should say no.

She needs to say no.

Absolutely no good will come of this.

 _None._

She starts to step towards the exit, not giving him an answer either way, just knowing she needs to get out of this foyer before Fin or Amanda or God knows who spots them. She makes it out to the car park, the waft of his aftershave confirmation that he's still following her and she turns around just inches from the drivers side of her car.

"Elliot," she whispers. "Whatever this is, whatever you came here to say.. I think it's best that you just go."

He just stares at her in response and when he doesn't speak she opens the door and holds it between them like a barrier. She waits for a final word or remark from his end but it doesn't come, instead he just steps forward, his hand reaching out and grasping the door so she can't close it until he physically lets it go.

A wave of uneasiness moves through her as he nears.

"Ten minutes," he pleads, his eyes searching hers.

She wants to laugh at that.

"You had 12 years."

Her eyes dare him to challenge her but he doesn't step back, doesn't let go of the door, his stance not allowing her to move into her own vehicle but his intimidation tactics only spur her on.

"What do you want to say to me Elliot?" She rasps into the small space between them. "That it was complicated?" The cool wind whips her hair upward in that moment. "Because we all know it was complicated."

She watches a wave of emotion move through his eyes at that.

"Yeah Liv.. " he whispers in the small space between them like it's a secret he doesn't want overheard. "It's complicated when you're married but your wife is pissed that you spend more time with your partner. It's complicated when you pull the trigger and it not only costs you an innocents child's life but your own and it's complicated when you don't know how to keep your partner in your life anymore without the job to clearly define boundaries."

His confession knocks into her like a heavy weight and her breath catches when he steps closer.

"And it's complicated when you don't watch the news in time and you find out the worst possible thing has happened in your absence and you know you would have broken your back to be there - _to stop it - to change it_ \- _to fix it_ in some way and you know you're gonna spend the rest of your life wondering if things would have been different if you had just stayed. Life is complicated Olivia, and it's certainly complicated when can tell your partner of 12 years absolutely everything but the Gods honest truth about how you feel about her."

He leaves his confession to dangle heavily between them, the rise and fall of his chest, the only sound between them.

She swallows.

She has no words in that moment, not a single one.

A group people spill out of the auditorium but his stare has a physical hold on her, she doesn't turn towards the noise.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there..." he continues, his voice strained as his eyes start to prick with moisture. "And I'm sorry that I'm here now.. after all this time showing up when it's the last thing you need. I'm not here to make things harder on you Olivia," he whispers. "I just needed you to know that I'm sorry. For all of it. I wasn't in a good place when we last spoke and you did me a huge favour with Kathleen. You didn't deserve that.. you didn't deserve any of it."

She finally manages to tear her eyes away from his, her gaze moving instead towards the group of smokers who were now congregating at the side of the entrance, their jovial shrieks a stark juxtaposition to their conversation.

"You should have just talked to me.." she rasps in a whisper, still not looking at him, because that's the part that's making the angry sadness pulse through her veins right now - all of this could have been avoided with one simple conversation.

He should have picked up his goddamned phone.

"Would it have made a difference?" He asks to her profile and her eyes flit back to his, surprised by the boldness of his question.

"You had 12 years too Liv."

Her eyes narrow at that.

He was the married one.

 _Not her._

"That's not fair."

"Just me what you wanted." The barrier of restraint thins between them with each passing moment and she tenses when he reaches out and runs his thumb boldly across her jawline. "Say it.."

He won't do it she thinks.

 _Not here_ , not in a crowded carpark with all of their industry colleagues inside.

Not after all these years.

But she's forgotten one thing - she may have a lot to lose now, but he no longer does.

His mouth is on hers within seconds, her stomach dropping like an unexpected elevator lurch. The keys slip from her slick palms, hitting the ground with the thud. Her free hand comes up, intent on moving him off her but he has her against the car before she knows it. Her mouth parts for a breath and he takes advantage, grasping her lower lip and sucking. His body presses boldly into hers and she can feel every crevice of his muscular form, her mind spinning at his sheer strength. He tilts her face within his hands and she's powerless when he drives his tongue between her lips. She makes a sound - part moan, part fury, trying desperately to fight the sensations coursing through her body. She presses into him once more with her palm, attempting to move him off her but his hand only grasps hers, intertwining their fingers, holding her stationary while he ransacks her mouth. Her chest pounds, he's kissing her like he's has claim on her but it's a desperate, misguided, angst ridden energy and it can only end one way.

She turns her face to the side, suddenly breaking the kiss. _"You sonofabitch, get off me,"_ she rasps in the small space between their faces, hoping the seriousness in her glare is warning enough.

He takes the hint, reluctantly lifting off her.

When he takes a step back she shoots him a look like he's overstepped - _big time_.

Her chest is pounding as she swipes her lips with her thumb, her eyes flitting to the entrance of the gala trying to gauge if anyone had seen them when she spots Amanda. She's on a phone call luckily with her back turned to them.

"Jesus Elliot, you can't just show up here and-"

"I know." He cuts her off, a wave of remorse moving through his features. "That was.. I shouldn't have.."

Her body is still blazing from his touch, her mind fuming from it.

 _Did that really just happen?_

 _Did Elliot Stabler just have his mouth on her?_

Out here in front of everyone.

She has a son to think about now - a reputation, she's a lieutenant.

A whole new life has been created outside of her old one, too many pages have been turned.

A mixture of adrenaline and disbelief charges through her veins as she steps forward.

"Go." She demands, heat pooling at the back of her throat. "Now."

But he doesn't.

Of course he doesn't, she'd be stupid to expect otherwise.

He never listened to her when they were partners, so why start now?

She is furious - furious at him for all of it.

He had thousands of chances, the ball was consistently in his court for 12 goddamned years and now here he was showing up far too many years too late like she was some kind of consolation prize.

"I'm sorry I kissed you."

Her eyes narrow.

"No you're not."

"No.." he agrees. "I'm not."

She shakes her head, scoffing as she bends down to scoop up the keys before moving towards the car door that he's not longer blocking.

She's seconds from getting in when she changes her mind, turning back towards him.

"You know.." she almost laughs. "It really wasn't that complicated afterall was it Elliot?"

She holds his stare, giving the rhetorical question a moment to land before she moves into the drivers seat.

She waits a few sold beats before she slams the door shut, taking a minute to just breathe through the silence.

 _What the hell just happened?_

She can still feel his eyes on her through the window, only it's muted by window tint and the night sky.

She is so close to ending this - she just needs to turn the key and drive.

That's all she has to do.

Just start driving Olivia and it will all be okay.

 _Why is she hesitating?_

She lifts her shaking hand, inserts the key and somehow manages to turn it and the engine roars into life.

 _Good._ She thinks. _You're doing good._

She clicks her seatbelt into place and considers looking up one last time but something stops her and she doesn't.

She simply releases the hand break and starts to pull out of the car space.

She somehow makes it to the exit of the carpark and it's only then that she allows herself to take one last glance in the rearview mirror.

She sees his outline, standing right where she left him.

 _Unmoving._

She expects to feel free in that moment, like a weight has lifted but all she can think about is how familiar he felt against her and how impossible it was to imagine he ever left.

She cannot believe he just kissed her like that.

It doesn't feel real.

A stark reminder of what they'd missed all these years.

Of what could have been..

She starts to feel the first tear fall but it's okay, because she's driving now.

One mile after the other - _cement freedom_.

Maybe in their next life.

The second tear falls.

Just maybe.

She switches on the radio, hoping to drown out her thoughts with some mindless radio chatter but it's a song that's just starting to play.

 _'When my skin grows old,_

 _When my breath runs cold,_

 _I'll be thinking about you.'_

She swipes her cheek with the underside of her wrist before feeling around in the console for the pack of tissues.

 _'When I run out of air to breathe,_

 _It's your ghost I see,_

 _I'll be thinking about you.'_

She tugs out a tissue from the packet.

 _'I'll see you on the other side._

 _We can try all over again.'_

Her phone buzzes from her purse and she reaches over with eyes still on the road, her fingers reaching - feeling until she grasps it.

 _If it's him, she is throwing it out the goddamned window._

But when she brings it up to her eyeline she smiles when she sees it's a picture of her son with a message from Lucy.

 _'Noah wanted me to send you this.'_

It's her little boy, holding up a piece of paper that says _'I love you Mommy'_ in blue and green crayon.

She sets the phone back in her bag, a sudden rush filling her chest at the notion of getting to see her boy in the morning.

Her damp eyes glance up to the rearview mirror once more as distance continues to pad between her and her former life.

Elliot may have regretted leaving, but she would have missed out on so much if he had stayed.

And for that she owes him.

' _We came so close._

 _It was almost love._

 _It was almost love.'_

Goodbye Elliot Stabler.

 **End.**

* * *

 _AN: Hey guys, I know this won't be a popular ending (my bad) but it_ _was never going to end well right. "_ _One Last Time"._ _I wanted to create a picture of what it could be like if he came back after all these years ready for something more (even tho lets face it, he's not really ready - he's a mess) but that so much distance between them resulted in him no longer fitting into the new world she created. A so close, yet so far kind of thing. Sad times. It's a shame these two couldn't make it work in this fic, but if it helps both Elliot and Olivia will be thinking about each other until the day they die "When my breath runs cold, I'll be thinking about you."_ _Anyway, would love to hear what you think. Thanks for reading and for all your support over the years. X_


End file.
